


Scratch the Paint

by Lemon_Lemmings



Series: Series 1 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Homesickness, Hugs, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk (Voltron)-centric, Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mushrooms, Recreational Drug Use, does this count as crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 08:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_Lemmings/pseuds/Lemon_Lemmings
Summary: Hunk’s panic generally manifests as the contents of his latest meal spilled on the floor, or tears emerging in instantaneous floods, or a desperate grasping for anything he can manipulate with his hands, anything he can control.This is a different kind of panic, building itself up like bricks in the pit of his gut until he stands before the mirror in his room.





	Scratch the Paint

**Author's Note:**

> This contains no actual sexual content but there are a few brief and nondescript references to sexual content.

Hunk stumbles out of the pod coughing and recognizes the press of Lance’s hand to his back, rubbing until he makes it through the brief fit.

“Ugh.” He gives himself a shake. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Pidge blinks quickly, brows vanishing under her bangs. “You were in an explosion!”

“You got trapped under some debris,” Shiro adds quietly. “It was pretty serious.”

“Not ringing any bells,” Hunk confesses, vaguely perturbed. The last thing he remembers is working on a rebel ship’s engine.

“Memory loss isn’t terribly out of the norm given your injuries,” Allura insists, lightly waving her hand. “Other than that, how are you feeling?”

“Um, okay.” Hunk pauses to assess himself. “Nothing hurts but my thighs feel…different? Tighter.”

“Probably contracture,” Coran says simply. “Even if the smoke inhalation was more concerning, your burns were rather significant. The scar tissue must be fairly deep.”

Hunk jolts, sudden realization immediately dissipating the residual grogginess from his head.

“Scars?” he repeats, veins running cold.

“We’ve got an ointment that will help loosen the skin up,” Coran says. “Completely painless to apply and very effective.”

“Okay, does it get rid of scars too?”

“No, it’s purpose is purely medicinal. It doesn’t have cosmetic properties.”

Hunk urgently seizes Allura by the shoulders. “Princess? Can you like, erase them with your Altean magic?”

Allura’s eyes widen, brow furrowed in bafflement. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”

Hunk’s heart sinks, a knot forming in his throat. “I can’t— Look, I need to get rid of them.”

“Calm down.” Keith holds up his hands placatingly. “It’s not like your scars are anywhere people are going to stare at them. Besides, I didn’t think you cared that much about appearances.”

Hunk rounds on him, glaring daggers. “Oh, I get it. I must not care about my appearance because I’m fat, right?”

Keith’s jaw falls open. “No, of course not! I just meant—“

“Save it for someone who cares,” Hunk snaps dismissively, turning back to Coran. Shiro barks some kind of rebuke at him but Hunk doesn’t care about that either. He barely registers it over the loud pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

“Please, there’s gotta be something I can do!”

“The pods’ efficiency already greatly reduces the extent of most scarring,” Coran explains, frowning. “Hunk, take a breath. You’re alive and that’s much more important than anything else.”

“You have no idea how important it is!” He rakes his fingers through his hair. Hard. Blunt though they are, his fingernails bite into his scalp.

“You didn’t flip out over your last scar,” Pidge points out, as confused as she is wary.

“On my arm! That’s fine!” Hunk scrunches down, shrinking inwardly. “I can’t have any scars from my waist to my knees! No, no, no!”

Lance’s hand returns to his back, kneading between his shoulders. “I’m sure you can still get your tattoos, man. People get tattoos over scars all the time. Remember how my sister broke her ankle? She got a tattoo of a rose after surgery and now you can’t see the scar at all.”

Hunk tugs at his hair, rigid with apprehension. He isn’t convinced. Burn scars are much different than neat, precise surgical incisions. He supposes he’ll actually have to get a look to ascertain how severe they are, but the inelastic tautness of his skin has got to be a bad sign.

“Maybe the different texture could even be kind of cool,” Lance continues, “like it might enhance the design or something.”

“Or maybe you could get tattoos in a different spot?” Pidge offers tentatively. “Since when do you want tattoos, anyway?”

“It’s some rite of passage thing—“

“Don’t even!” Hunk silences Lance with a harsh glare. “Do _not_ speak for me and do _not_ act like you know the first thing about receiving a malofie! You don’t know shit!”

Lance flounders as he takes a slow step away from him, eyes bugging in shock. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he squeaks, voice small. Hunk gripes at him all the time for petty stuff, but not like this. Never like this.

“You’re obviously upset,” Allura starts with a trace of distress, hands motioning delicately as she takes a step toward him.

“I’m beyond upset!” Hunk spits, seething not at Allura in particular but just at everything, and everyone, and most of all the baleful feeling of too tight skin. “Back off, everyone just back off! I need some air…”

He hurries off to a very wise lack of protest from anyone, but his anger is only the molten exterior of an eerily cold panic.

Hunk’s panic generally manifests as the contents of his latest meal spilled on the floor, or tears emerging in instantaneous floods, or a desperate grasping for anything he can manipulate with his hands, anything he can control.

This is a different kind of panic, building itself up like bricks in the pit of his gut until he stands before the mirror in his room.

He unzips the healing suit and peels it off with trembling fingers, expecting the worst and somehow still completely unprepared when he finally sees. He can almost hear the crack as his heart breaks in his chest.

Puffy, webbed burns hateful to the eye devour the flesh of his thighs almost down to the knees. He’s fortunate they didn’t actually make it down that far because it’d probably interfere with mobility if they did. The skin is tough and grooved under his careful touch, doesn’t feel quite like skin at all. It reminds him of beef jerky, the tangy teriyaki kind his brother liked to get at the market back home.

The thought both makes him ill and twists the knife homesickness in even deeper. The burns are a little worse on his right side, creeping up to his hip. His groin didn’t make it unscathed. This brings up another, secondary concern. It doesn’t seem like the scarring is bad enough to hinder, well, practical stuff…but what if it is? And what about girls?

Or maybe not necessarily girls. At this rate, probably aliens. He’s not seeking anyone at the moment, girl or otherwise, but how this might impact that is a worry for another day that garnishes today’s despair.

There’s no way he can get a full malofie, not like this. Normal, healthy skin needs to be stretched during the process as is. Knotty, beef jerky blemishes like these? So tight it feels like his flesh has pinched itself frozen?

It’s fixed, it can’t stretch at all. He feels personally betrayed by his skin, and like a traitor himself when he thinks about how this is going to disappoint his family. He’d already promised to be his cousin’s soa.

He always, always misses home and his family, but right now that longing is a violent force. It pummels his insides and leaves him weak, crushed beneath the sheer inability to do anything about it.

Hunk is sure he’s going to cry but somehow the tears don’t come.

* * *

 

Eventually Shiro finds him and as unwelcome as this is, Hunk is impressed. He didn’t expect to be found at all. The castle is massive, practically a city in itself and he could’ve gone anywhere.

“What are you doing?” Shiro asks, tired more than accusatory.

“Clearly taking this escape pod apart,” Hunk mutters, carefully setting some disassembled sheet metal aside.

“Why?”

“So I can put it back together.” Hunk gives a one-shouldered shrug, sets to dismantling its innards.

“Are you okay? Physically, I mean. You were out for a couple days and you took off before we could follow up, or even get you anything to eat.”

“Physically?” Hunk echoes bitterly. “Maimed! And ashamed of it, thanks so much for asking!”

“I can relate to that,” Shiro tells him gently, gaze briefly darting to his Galra prosthetic. “We can talk about it, if you want.”

“What I want, is to take this apart and put it back together,” Hunk says, clipped as he cuts through some wires in the escape pod’s open posterior.

“Okay. I understand you’re—“

“If you say _upset_ —“

“I’m not going to say upset,” Shiro raises his voice. “But however you’re feeling, it isn’t your teammates’ fault. You can’t blow up at them like that.”

“Why do you think I’m here, huh!?” Hunk storms, snapping to a stand and sweeping his pliers in a wide gesture. “Here, where no one ever goes, by myself, fixing something that doesn’t need to be fixed! Here, alone! You wanna help me with that, Shiro!?”

There is a moment where Hunk thinks this is going to turn into a fight. Shiro’s eyes flash and his jaw clenches. He’s never gotten into it with Shiro before, never for real. It could get ugly. There’s this formidable fury simmering under Shiro’s surface, unassuming but explosive when he erupts. Hunk can be pretty nasty himself if he feels pushed and while he’s not angry with Shiro specifically, his nerves are fried.

Shiro closes his eyes and inhales a very deep breath. He turns around and walks away without saying another word.

Hunk deflates in his absence, left back to silence and dim lights and a mostly pointless project.

Halfway through putting it back together, the inevitable snowballing of his anxiety finally catches up to him. It leads him to throw up all over a liner he was going to replace anyway. His vomit’s streaked with black and that's equal parts disgusting and disturbing.

Soot, he figures.

For some reason, this is when he finally begins crying. He hunches up against the escape pod and sobs until he’s a mess; chest fluttering, eyes burning, face sticky with tears and mucus.

Sobbing saps up the rest of his strength, so he curls up on the seats he hasn’t reinstalled yet and shuts down.

* * *

Over the next couple days, Hunk lays low. He keeps to the lesser traveled parts of the castle and busies himself with cleaning closets, unpacking Altean hardware, and just exploring all the places he’s never bothered venturing to before. He avoids the kitchen.

Cooking is an impulse he reins in because the kitchen is far too public. When he needs food, he swipes it quietly and retreats to unoccupied corners.

If his teammates do run into him, they give him a wide berth. Even Lance. Lance is downright careful around him, and if Hunk were in any other kind of mood, it would be uncomfortable.

Pidge takes a chance when she happens to come across him on one of his discreet kitchen trips. She invites him to join in on one of her projects and doesn’t take the hint when he ignores her the first time. He ends up snapping at her when her hopeful rambling grinds on his dead patience.

He’s harsher than he needs to be, much harsher than he should be. Pidge’s eyes tear up on the spot and he mutters some frustrated, halfhearted apology that doesn’t qualify as an apology at all because he leaves without even tossing another glance at her.

He’s being awful, he knows. But he feels awful and warped and all levels of done.

Done with space, done with Voltron, done with trying. No matter how done he feels, he can’t actually _be_ done. He’s in too deep to be done and he’s not going to abandon anybody, but this hurts. He’s taken his blows, they all have, but these scars?

That hits home, it hits home hard and home is already so, so far away. This isn’t just a blow to his body or his morale, it’s a blow to his identity. It makes him feel excruciatingly separated from his family and his home in an intimate way, as if space hadn’t already separated them across unimaginable distances.

Being in space is hard enough and Hunk isn’t stupid. He isn’t going home any time soon. It’s already been over a year. It’s going to be another few, at the least, before he can hug his mother, or treat his brother to a tub of the teriyaki jerky, or cook with his grandma, and maybe his niece and nephew won’t even remember him.

There’s nothing he can do about the time lost between. But he’s always intended to give his skin. His skin was supposed to belong to his culture, to his family, to their very history. He wanted to carry an intricate tapestry of ink, intended, just like the rest of them, to push through the pain of the process and preserve tradition.

It was important, truly important, and now it’s impossible. It’s a heavy, hollow loss that he’s mourning. He feels damaged and sabotaged and on edge all at once. Rather like a wounded animal, Hunk just wants to be left to hurt alone.

* * *

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Allura announces, tossing her hands up.

“Guess you found me,” Hunk replies flatly. He’s been hanging out in some room with a rock garden that he stumbled into, part of the east wing. The rocks are pretty cool, naturally vibrant and arranged neatly in black sand.

“Suit up,” Allura says with a brisk edge. “We’re leaving.”

“Um. What?”

“You’re going to take me to the Balmera in the Yellow Lion,” Allura informs him matter-of-factly. “I want to have a backup crystal on board and it should be no problem to acquire since the Balmera is healthy now.”

“Like, right now?”

“Yes, right now. Hurry up.”

Hunk opens his mouth to argue and ends up closing it. Wordlessly, he makes his way around Allura and goes to get his suit.

* * *

“I’m not stupid,” he informs her tartly once they’re in Yellow. “Why are we really going?”

“It’s always wise to be prepared,” Allura breathes. “Securing a replacement crystal is a sensible course of action, should anything happen to this one.”

“I’m sure it is, but that’s not why we’re going, is it?”

Allura frowns at him, her gaze betraying a weary frustration. “I don’t know what else to do with you.”

Hunk snorts. “So what does that mean? I’m like some misbehaved dog you’ve got to take out for a walk?”

“No! Or in any case, I don’t think so.” Allura’s features twist in uncertainty. “What’s a dog?”

“A species of domesticated canine that evolved alongside humans. We keep them as pets. Well, usually, but sometimes they’re service or working animals.”

Hurt flashes across her face. “You really think I’d treat you like a beast?”

“I don’t know!” Hunk swallows, grip on Yellow’s levers reflexively tightening. “I don’t even know what we’re doing, Allura.”

“Lance told me a little about your dilemma,” she sighs. “Don’t be angry with him, I’m the one who asked. It was clear you weren’t going to talk about it.”

“Lance doesn’t know anything about it and neither do you,” he deadpans.

“He knows enough to understand this tattooing was very important to you,” Allura says softly. “A cultural ritual, isn’t it? I know plenty about those. I can’t participate in mine anymore either.”

“I asked why we were going to the Balmera,” Hunk grumbles. “That’s it. Not what Lance did or didn’t tell you, not why you think you can relate.”

“Because you’re impossible!” Allura exclaims, exasperated. “You won’t talk to anyone, you’re coarse and unreceptive when we try to talk to you, you don’t show up for your training and you slink around the castle like a hidden stowaway! Your team shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around you!”

“Then maybe you guys should just leave me alone! Is it really that hard!?”

“Yes!” Allura exclaims, wildly gesturing with her hands. “It’s incredibly hard because we’re worried about you!”

“Worried?” Hunk echoes, taken aback.

“Of course we’re worried!” Allura’s eyes glitter passionately and it seems like her pink markings brighten. “It’s no secret you’re devastated! We want to help! I thought this might be the answer, reminding you what you fight for, getting you some fresh air, and a break from everyone at the castle.”

“I guess they could use a break from me too,” Hunk sighs, slumping in his seat. He feels an encouraging pulse from his Lion.

“No one’s angry with you, exactly, it’s just,” Allura pauses, hesitating a moment. “It’s a bit like trying to approach a nest of buzyegils.”

He doesn’t have to ask what a nest of buzyegils is. Context tells him enough.

* * *

“Princess! Hunk!”

They’ve scarcely spent five minutes off Yellow when Shay comes running over, the other Balmerans parting in her path. She grabs the both of them in an exuberant hug, squeezing happily. Allura makes a contented noise and leans her head into Shay’s shoulder.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

Hunk curls an arm around hers and tries to lighten up. It is nice to see Shay, as it's been awhile. He just can’t shake the circumstances from his mind.

“And a great delight to see you,” Shay returns warmly, releasing them from her hold. “What brings you to the Balmera?”

Allura straightens and readies to speak, but Hunk beats her to it.

“You don’t have to make excuses, Allura.” Hunk takes his helmet off and tucks it under his arm. “We’re here cause I’m a jerk.”

Shay tilts her head. “I thought you were a human.”

“Oh, I am. A jerk is just anyone who’s really ornery or obnoxious.” _Like your brother,_ he adds privately.

“That does not sound like the Hunk I am familiar with,” Shay murmurs uncertainly.

“He suffered a significant injury,” Allura supplies, voice fluttering beneath the polite tone she always adopts when they’re with other allies. She glances to him warily. “It’d dampen anyone’s disposition.”

“Are you okay?” Shay clasps her hands together, her ears perked in concern.

“I don’t know,” Hunk admits without thinking, more to himself than Shay. “I still can’t believe I’m not going to get tattooed and I don’t even remember why…”

Another Balmeran interrupts before this can get any more awkward, shyly tapping Hunk on the shoulder. “Yellow Paladin, may I explore your Lion?”

“Uh.” Hunk tosses a glance back to Yellow. His barrier’s down and he’s checking out the Balmerans just as much as they’re checking out him, head tipped and tail idly swishing. He’s not as friendly as Blue, but he’s pretty curious and Hunk’s getting a mellow read from him. It’s not like the Balmerans could actually do any harm.

“Sure, go ahead. He won’t bite.”  
  
The Balmeran brightens and happily bounds for Yellow, waving for some of her friends to follow.

“Are you in pain?” Shay presses on.

“Not the physical kind. You know, It’s kind of hard to explain and there’s nothing you can do about it anyway,” Hunk gets out all in one breath. “So, how have you been, Shay? No Galra sightings, I hope?”

“I am well. Thankfully, we’ve encountered no Galra.” Apprehension lingers in her expression. “You two have traveled far. Perhaps sharing a meal ease will your tension?”

Hunk and Allura quickly exchange alarmed looks.

“That’s very kind of you to offer,” Allura says. “However, we ate before came.”

“Besides, no one’s tense,” Hunk tries to reassure her because he hates the subtle droop of her cute little ear-things.

Shay inclines her head, unconvinced.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little tense.”

“It isn’t just you,” Allura offers. “Our last few missions have been spectacularly hectic.”

Shay’s ears give a subtle wiggle, a thoughtful look unfurling on her face. “Let us go to the heart of the Balmera. I have an idea.”

“I was disappointed I didn’t get to see it last time,” Allura says, the corner of her lips quirking up.

Hunk spares another glance to Yellow, entertaining numerous Balmerans. He’s crouched down so they can climb on top of him as well as inside. If he was uncomfortable, he’d put his barrier up. Besides, they really can’t do any harm. The controls stay dead and dormant until Hunk settles in the pilot’s chair.

* * *

They follow Shay through one tunnel after the next, making their way down. The walls look different now that the Balmera is healed. Before they were plain, drab and cracked dirt. Now shards of crystal protrude from the cracks and speckle the ripples in healthier, moist dirt.

“If it is alright for me to ask, what’s a tattoo?” Shay questions hesitantly.

“It’s like a picture on your body, I guess. A permanent one,” Hunk describes, pensive. “A lot of people get decorative stuff, like skulls or angel wings. The kind I was supposed to get is a lot different than that though.”

“What is an angel, anyway?” Allura asks. “I’ve been meaning to ask since Lance flirtatiously compared me to one.”

Pfft, of course he did. Hunk smirks at the thought. “Okay, angels are like divine beings. Not on the omnipotent level, but yeah, supposedly they’re these pure, heavenly beacons. They're commonly depicted with wings and halos even though I think the real ones were supposed to be way creepier than that.”

“Angels are real?” Shay echoes, mildly mystified.

“Some people think so, some people don’t. If I ever see a real one, I’ll let you know.”

“How was the tattoo you were going to get different than angel wings?” Allura asks. lightly stroking her hand over the crystals in the wall as they walk. “I don’t want to distress you more by asking, I only wish to understand.”

“I too would like to understand,” Shay adds.

“Sure, I guess I can give you the gist of it. We’re gonna be walking for awhile.” Hunk knits his fingers together. “You can just walk into a tattoo parlor on a whim and get some angel wings. Like I said, they’re decorative. You have to earn a malofie— or, at least you _should_. In my family you have to or else face my grandma’s wrath and tirade against insolent youth. I figured going through the Garrison would help me earn mine but then boom! Blue Lion, space adventure, here we are.”

“It marks you in some significant way but angel wings do not?” Shay works out slowly.

“Well yeah, I mean, I’m sure whoever gets permanent angel wings on their skin gets them for a reason too and that’s cool,” he explains. “Not just angel wings, skulls, or spiders, or roses, whatever really. Malofie is different because it’s a commitment to your culture.”

He sees out of the corner of his eye that Allura almost touches his shoulder. She draws back and moves her hand along the wall instead.

“But if some choose only to get the angel wings…Hunk, do humans vary in culture?” Shay tilts her head.

“Very much,” Hunk answers. “There’s a vast variation all across the world; different religions, different foods, different traditions. Too many to count.”

“On Altea, northern and southern Alteans often had different ways,” Allura murmurs, a trace of longing in her voice. “Although I don’t believe the variations were as widespread or as drastic as they seem to be on Earth.”

“On the Balmera, our culture is uniform.” Shay gestures across the tunnel. “I cannot imagine so many different ways coexisting peacefully.”

“Sometimes they don’t,” Hunk sighs wearily. “I’m Samoan. Malofie and malu are explicitly Samoan. Everyone in my family gets tattooed. Maybe they won’t be as disappointed as I think though. I'm sure my cousin's found another soa by now and they probably thought I would chicken out anyway. It’s a super long, painful thing. And you bleed. Like, a lot. It’s literally someone’s job to wipe the blood off your skin during the process and I’m pretty bad with blood.”

Allura looks horrified by this. Hunk isn’t offended, exactly, but he thinks it’s pretty hypocritical considering Altean children were supposed to fight robot gladiators.

Shay on the other hand, looks confused and this kindles his curiosity.

“Can Balmerans bleed? Do you guys even have blood?”

“Naturally,” Shay says, amused. “Is there a reason we would not have blood?”

Hunks feels his face warm. “I guess I’m just not used to rocks having blood. They don’t on Earth. Obviously you’re not a rock-rock, you’re a rock-person, but still. We don’t have rock people on Earth, either.”

Shay laughs, the sound featherlight with a bubbly tilt. “It seems our home worlds are quiet different. You have me wondering though, if perhaps the Balmerans on other Balmera have culture different than ours. Princess, do you know?”

“Not off hand,” she confesses. “I could look it up in the castle’s database.”

“I would like to know,” Shay hums. “I wonder if Balmerans visited each other before Zarkon. If we ever exchanged different ways or spoke to each other’s Balmera.”

“If we liberate another Balmera, I’m sure we could take you to visit or vice-versa. Right?” Hunk glances to Allura.

“Of course.” Allura smiles.

“That would be so exciting!” Shay gushes. “But for now, I want to introduce you to a custom on this Balmera. First, we will get you a change of dress.”

Hunk and Allura exchanged puzzled looks that Shay does not miss. She twirls around with a beaming grin.

“Trust me!”

* * *

Balmeran wear isn’t particularly uncomfortable, it’s just different. The fabric is heavy and textured. It feels almost like something waterproof, which is weird, because Hunk is pretty sure there aren’t any large bodies of water here.

Balmerans are also huge, which means the one piece goes down to his shins even though it’s supposed to go down to his knees. This is actually a relief though, because Balmeran wear has a slit in the back for their tails to go through. That slit starts at the back of Hunk’s knees since he’s smaller and he’d be far more uncomfortable if it had been over his very tailless butt.

Allura is smaller than he is and she’s practically swaddled by her one piece. It would fall right off of her if it weren’t for the tightly tied sash. She shuffles over to Hunk and lowers her voice to a whisper while Shay prepares something with her grandmother.

“Do you think it would be rude if I changed shape to look more Balmeran?” She casts an uncertain look down the length of the dress. “I’d like to fit this better but if we’re going to participate in some kind of custom, we’re guests to that custom. I don’t want to appear as though I’m mocking anyone.”

“Personally I’d hold off,” Hunk whispers back. “You can ask Shay if you’re that uncomfortable though.”

Allura contemplates for a moment. “I think I can make do. It isn’t so bad, although it’s a bit difficult to move in because it’s so baggy. Speaking of difficulty moving…This may be a touchy subject, but you haven’t been using the ointment, have you?”

“You can tell?” Hunk ducks his head.

“Only when I’m paying attention. You grimaced when you got up.”

“I thought I’d be okay because it didn’t reach my joints, but I didn’t really realize how much skin moved before.” Hunk sheepishly picks at the neckline of his dress.

“I don’t normally think about it either,” Allura says. “But you should use what we have available to help, even if it won’t restore the appearance.”

“I will,” he agrees.

Shay comes back with a smooth stone bowl filled to the brim with what appear to be bioluminescent mushrooms.

Hunk squints at them dubiously but before he can ask, Shay’s mother interrupts.

“I shall keep these for you,” she tells them with a gentle smile, patting the pile of his and Allura’s suits in her hands. “Enjoy partaking in the firefly fungi!”

“The what now?” Hunk blinks rapidly.

“Thank you,” Allura declares brightly, shooting him a look. “It’s so gracious of you to allow us to participate.”

“Nonsense.” Shay’s grandmother comes shuffling over and fondly pats Allura’s arm. “You saved our Balmera. You should get to know her better.”

Hunk raises a brow. Getting to know the Balmera?

Are these _magic_ mushrooms? Not magic as in Allura’s kind or the weirdness that is quintessence, but as in psychedelics?

“Perhaps you should partake in them now, so the euphoria will peak by the time you reach the heart of the Balmera,” Rax suggests, craning his head around around the corner in their dwelling.

Okay, yeah. The glowing mushrooms are drugs.

Shay shakes her head. “You know the firefly fungus can effect one’s gait. We still have some slopes to walk down. I will not risk any falls.”

“Uh,” Hunk pipes up. “I don’t know about this.”

Shay’s face falls. “You do not wish to bond with the Balmera?”

“No, that’s not it at all! I just don’t know about right now. Is now really a good time? Maybe we should save them for another time. I think I would feel bad about eating all your shrooms, is this really okay?”

“The yellow one is scared,” Rax teases, smirking.

“No I’m not,” Hunk insists. Even though he doesn’t usually have a problem admitting when he is, he doesn’t want to hurt Shay’s feelings any more than it looks like he already has. Now her ears and her little stub of a tail are droopy.

“Never fear,” Shay urges him gently. “I would not invite my friends to anything that would bring them harm.”

“Um…” He’s not so sure about that. Of course she wouldn’t do it on purpose. Evidently this kind of thing is normal on the Balmera.

Allura’s staring at him in confusion, trying to figure out what his deal is. Either she doesn’t realize the shrooms are drugs or she doesn’t care. Or maybe they won’t effect her, like how Alteans don’t get brain freeze.

Shay is looking down at the bowl forlornly, still droopy and bummed out. It’s an expression that wrings his heart.

“Never mind,” he gives in. “You know what, I’m cool. Just got a little nervous, that’s all.”

Shay slings her big arm around Hunk’s shoulders and affectionately pulls him against her.

“All will be well,” she promises. “The firefly fungi presents a unique experience for everyone, but it is never a bad experience.”

Hunk hopes so. He supposes whatever happens reasonably can’t be the worst, or even the weirdest thing that’s happened in space so far.

* * *

They settle in a circle on the ground in the heart of the Balmera. No other Balmerans are present at this time. It’s even more beautiful since the last time Hunk saw it. Flowers with strange patterns grow from patches of moss against the wall and on the floor. The illuminated core of the Balmera shines even brighter than before. Like the walls on the walk down, crystals are scattered throughout the stone.

Shay takes one of the luminescent shrooms from the bowl and pops it into her mouth, happily chewing it over. Allura plucks one out and gives it a brief, cursory study before she bites into it. Hunk eats his before he can think about it long enough to change his mind.

“It will take a bit of time for the firefly fungi to enlighten you,” Shay chimes. “You will know when it does because you will feel the very spirit of the Balmera merge with yours.”

“This is exciting,” Allura whispers, grinning sunnily as she claps her hands together.

Hunk concludes Allura doesn’t realize what’s going on. He feels bad, like maybe he should’ve warned her.

“Very,” Shay agrees. “They say this is how our ancestors learned to connect to the Balmera in the first place. Although today we can communicate with the Balmera by touch, we still partake in the firefly fungi so we can feel even nearer to her.”

Does Shay even realize that the glowing shrooms are drugs? Maybe she does and they just don’t share the same perspective about it. He’s debating whether or not to ask, when her hand curls around his wrist.

“Relax, Hunk,” she encourages, “I know this is new for you, but it is a good new.”

“Man, do I hope so,” he chuckles nervously. With any luck, maybe he won’t get high at all. Maybe this firefly fungi stuff only works on Balmerans.

His hypothesis is disproven when the effects hit Allura first. She starts giggling out of nowhere. She starts with small, airy giggles with her hand politely covering her mouth. They intensify until she’s laughing so hard she’s crying.

She flops back, her heels drumming on the floor as the laughter flows from her throat. Her pink markings glow as she gasps for air in between, giddy tears sliding from her eyes like pearls.

“You okay, Allura?” Hunk asks.

“I’m wonderful!” she chortles. “Wonderful! Why, I’ve never realized how sparkly it is down here!”

“You’ve never been down here,” Hunk points out.

This just makes Allura laugh even harder. She rolls around on the ground, hair coming loose from her bun as she cracks up like a loon.

“This is the gift of the Balmera’s euphoria,” Shay explains, watching Allura with an open fondness. “We can all partake now that the Galra have gone.”

Shay is also different, Hunk realizes. Her eyes seem unnaturally liquid and she’s not gray anymore. At least, not completely. Silver and gold shimmer along her skin. The metallic veil shifts around her, crinkling like cellophane.

Her eyes begin changing color too. Violet eclipses the vibrant yellow and warms into a vermillion red. Like the red apples that hang plump and ripe from the tree Hunk didn’t realize was down here. He looks over Shay to take a gander at it, growing sturdy and strong against the wall. The trunk is thick around as his torso at least, and at maybe a hundred apples dot the branches.

How did he not notice that?

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a normal apple tree on the Balmera,” Hunk laughs, positively tickled by the absurdity.

He stands up to make his way to the ridiculously normal looking apple tree and falls over himself laughing, because he just can’t stop. He trips and crashes to the dirt and he doesn’t care even a little bit because it feels like heaven just to laugh so freely like this. Shay helps him sit up and she’s laughing too, changing color again like a chameleon.

That’s supposed to be Allura.

But chameleons don’t really change color, do they?

Or do they? Hunk feels like he should know this. Maybe some of those apples are actually chameleons, blending in and pretending they don’t change color.

For some reason, this is freaking hilarious. Hunk clutches his stomach as he doubles over, losing it over the apple-chameleons. Just like Allura, he laughs until he cries and he can barely catch his breath.

Tears blur his vision and when he finally blinks his way free of them, the apple tree is hiding. Or maybe it’s gone, swallowed by the magnificent walls of the Balmera. The crystals shimmer vividly and blink on and off like holiday lights. They shift round and round, pirouetting in kaleidoscope patterns. They’re dazzling and dizzying all at once, and Hunk can feel them. Their colors skitter over his skin with petal plush kisses, soft and delicate. He’s never experienced color like this before. Like it was alive, like it loved him enough to embrace him and share the secret. Does this mean he’s feeling the Balmera?

He looks to Shay to ask, but Shay’s not near him anymore. She’s dancing with Allura across a distance that seems to have shape, to the backdrop of light flashing over crystal. At first Hunk’s confused because why, why are they dancing when there’s no music?

But there is music.

It’s a butter smooth melody in a language he doesn’t recognize and when he closes his eyes, he can feel the notes rustle around him as a river parts around a rock. It feels cool in the refreshing sort of way, like the breeze in early spring.

Shay picks Allura up and playfully tosses her in the air, both of them laughing gleefully. She’s a little off the mark when she catches her, like she misjudged the distance. But Shay catches her even so and Allura cranes her neck over her broad shoulder, motioning for Hunk to come over.

She’s grinning like a jack-o-lantern, wide and bright and saying something, maybe, but Hunk can’t make out what it is.

This is where things really get weird.

Hunk starts to make his way over but it feels like he’s wading through wet cement. He’s moving but he’s not, he can’t. Everything is in slow-mo. Seconds pass to the speed of molasses, moments slowed to the pace of a drunken tortoise.

Raising his foot just to take a single step, a split-second motion, gets drawn out like a boring lecture at the Garrison. Only it isn’t boring, it’s bizarre beyond belief. Time itself is so slow it’s almost nonexistent. He wonders if this is what it might be like to be in cryofreeze, preserved in the stasis and immune to the passage of minutes.

He’d ask Allura except for the little problem that she was unconscious during her stasis. And because he’s still not close enough.

He’s not moving!

He is, but he’s not. He’s walking. Or, he’s willing himself to walk. He can feel himself move but he’s stalled by the hiatus of time itself. It’s too intriguing to be frustrating. It must only be happening on his side of the Balmera’s heart though. On Shay and Allura’s side, time is still running freely.

Allura is dancing again, hair bouncing against her shoulders like snowy cotton candy. Shay isn’t dancing anymore, but she’s doing…something. Digging, maybe?

Yeah. She’s crouched down, large hands churning up the ground. She’s really enthusiastic about it too, little tail bobbing as she rocks back and fourth with the motion. Chunks of stone and dirt through the air. The crystals behind her singsong their encouragement, shifting between all the shades of the rainbow.

“What are you doing?” he calls over, hands cupped around his mouth. That side of the Balmera’s heart seems much farther away than it was before.

Maybe he isn’t rooted to the spot in the clutches of a stopped time. Maybe the room is just silently stretching out, expanding between them. Pushing him back further and further.

“A rush!” Shay laughs, teeming with excitement. “A splendid rush of creativity, I must make something!”

She keeps digging and digging, dirt and stone sparkling as they're chucked behind her.

Hunk looks up to see this geometric pattern in the ceiling. No, no, it isn’t a pattern, it’s a gap. Violet clouds and cartoon stars swirl around inside. No, no, it’s not a gap. It’s a portal.

Yeah, it has to be a portal. All of a sudden, ethereal beings manifest in the midst of the portal. Hunk gasps in awe. The beings are featureless like undecorated gingerbread cookies, shapes indistinct. They radiate this special warmth, as hopeful and uplifting as the first sunbeams that burst through the clouds after the storm.

Hunk reaches for them, yearning. They’re too high up, but they promise it’s okay through a wordless connection that reminds him of his bond with Yellow. They feed their promises directly into his brain, wrapped in honey and glittering gold.

It’s so beautiful, he begins to weep.

“You guys,” he blubbers. “I told you I’d let you know if I ever saw real angels. I— I’m seeing them, they’re real. They’re so real.”

“They’re real!” Allura echoes, stilling in her rhythmic sway. The revelation is too much for her. She drops right down to her knees with her hands over her mouth. “They’re real!”

“Are they creepy?” Shay frets, breathless from all her feverish digging.

“No, no,” Hunk quickly shakes his head. “They’re friends.”

He stares at the angels until they go home, fading from his sight and taking the portal with them. Crystals remain in their wake. The parting gift they give to Hunk must be teleportation because the next thing he knows, he’s on the other side of the heart with Allura and Shay.

“I can’t drive like this,” he tells the former, chuckling at the expense of realizing just how high he really is.

“Drive?” Allura puzzles, her face wavering in and out of focus.

“The Yellow Lion,” he laughs, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I can’t drive.”

“Hold that thought.” Allura springs to her feet. “I have to do something.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t know, I just got this sudden…” She trails off, gesturing frustratedly for words that won’t come to her.

“A rush!” Shay supplies eagerly.

“Yes, a rush!” Allura bunny hops in place. She spends a moment staring at her hands and then she scurries over to a patch of moss where some of the flowers are growing.

The flowers have faces. They didn’t have faces earlier and that’s pretty strange. Stranger still, the flowers don’t have Balmeran faces. They should have Balmeran faces, after all, they are Balmeran flowers. But their faces look more like emoji faces than anything. A glittery haze surrounds them and expands to envelop Allura too.

She begins picking the flowers, laughing at the jokes they tell her with their obscure emoji mouths. If Hunk weren’t so euphoric he’d feel outdone, because his own punchlines draw confusion from Allura more often than laughs. That’s probably normal though, given how contextual humor is. He probably wouldn’t get Altean jokes either. The flowers must be supreme comedians to master intergalactic humor with ease.

He sits down beside Shay and finally discovers why she’s been digging. There’s a thick layer of clay beneath the rock and dirt. She’s dug herself out a sizable lump of it for sculpting.

“See,” she trills, bringing up the mound of clay, her sturdy claws fanned apart. “It is…I have not figured out what it is yet, but I am making it…”

“You’re making art,” Hunk approves with endearment. He leans his head against her shoulder, cheek brushing her skin.

He pauses, mesmerized by just how pleasant Shay’s skin feels, if “skin” is an applicable term. He nuzzles against her shoulder some more, back and fourth, over and over. The texture reminds him of an avocado rind, bumpy and cool. The bumps are more pronounced than in an avocado but they aren’t rough.

He keeps nuzzling her shoulder and places his hand on her forearm. He rubs his palm up and down her arm as she sculpts, intensely focused on the beautiful sensation of her bumpy flesh.

Shay doesn’t mind a a bit.

“My arm is your friend,” she cheers, little tail thumping up and down as she laughs.

* * *

By the time he finally comes down, Hunk figures it’s been hours. It’s probably safe to assume Shay has a higher tolerance because it seems like she’s fully clear headed while his senses are still too keen to be normal.

Allura’s tolerance must be weaker than his. She’s come down a lot for sure but her pupils are still blown open like purple parasols, nearly eclipsing her irises.

“Finished,” she declares, scooting over on her knees to place a flower crown atop Hunk’s head. The petals tickle his scalp, sending tingles through his entire body.

“Thanks.”

Allura smiles. “Now we all match.”

She’s already made flower necklaces and crowns for herself and Shay. Her rush was of the creative nature as much as Shay’s. She’d begun by braiding the flowers into her hair and then moved on into weaving accessories.

“I will miss you when you go,” Shay says sheepishly, tracing another swirl into her abstract sculpture with the tip of her claw.

“You want to come back to the castle?” Hunk asks, only half-joking.

“For a visit,” Allura clarifies. The high must be trickling out of her if she’s with it enough to be practical. “It wouldn’t be safe for you to stay with us for very long, I’m afraid.”

Shay shakes her head. “I would like that one day, but not today. It would be necessary to prepare my family before going anywhere. We have never been separated for longer than when I was captured.”

Hunk winces with a fresh pang of homesickness.

“With that in mind, we should probably take our leave.” Allura fingers at the flower tucked behind her ear. “This was an exhilarating and insightful experience, but our duties await us back at the castle.”

“Are you sure you are alright to leave, princess? Your eyes still carry the glimmer of the firefly fungi.”

“It’s okay,” Hunk says, despite the urge to jump on an excuse to stay longer. “My, err, _enlightenment,_ is pretty worn off by now and I’m the one piloting.”

Shay nods and rises to her feet. “Let’s go back up.”

Hunk pulls Allura to her feet and they follow Shay out of the heart. The passage of Hunk’s suspected hours is evident in the dark gradient of the sky so high up above. The crystals embedded in the walls provide enough light for him and Allura to see by. Hunk isn’t exactly an expert on Balmeran physiology but he’s fairly confident they’re adapted to darkness, so Shay probably doesn't need any at all.

“You’ve got super night vision, right?”

“Hm?” Shay blinks at him owlishly.

“You can see in the dark?” he rephrases.

“Oh, yes. Is it too dark for you?” she pauses. “You could spent the night in our dwelling if climbing in the daylight would be safer.”

“We’ll be fine,” Allura assures. “We have you and the crystals to guide us.”

“Hey,” Hunk says, hit with a sudden thought. “Is it okay if I take a crystal? Or exchange some of my life juice for a crystal, I think? I don’t want to yank it out like the Galra.”

“How big of a crystal do you need?” Shay asks.

“Really small. Like the little ones that stick out.” He points to a partly protruding crystal, no thicker than a baby carrot stick.

“Sure.” Shay takes his hand and presses it to the wall of the Balmera. She spreads his fingers and keeps his hand flush to the dirt plane. “There.”

“Um, okay.” Hunk takes a breath. “What’s next?”

“Would you like me to do it?” Allura asks with unveiled amusement.

“No, I can do it. I mean, I think I can do it. Wait, can humans do this?” Hunk raises a brow.

Shay chuckles. “You should be able to extract a crystal that small, yes. Simply give yourself to the Balmera as you did when partaking in the fungi. Reach out to her in your mind, she will hear you.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Hunk closes his eyes and tries to concentrate like he’s seen Shay do. He thinks about the way dolphins communicate with frequencies and tries to do something similar, picturing the crystal come free from the wall.

It works. A new sensation feathers through him, almost like a gentle tug at his very being. It’s weird but it isn’t unpleasant.

“You did it,” Allura announces.

Shay slides her hand away from his. The dirt recedes from the crystal and it lands in the center of Hunk’s palm.

“Cool.” He grins and gives the wall a gentle pat. “Thanks, Balmera.”

“You enjoyed bonding with her today, yes?” Shay asks. “Your nerves were for naught?”

“Totally,” Hunk says, fiddling with the crystal. ”Bonding with the Balmera was great.”

He’s not exactly lying but it’s not something he thinks he’d do again. Ever.

Or at least not anytime soon…

* * *

Most Balmerans are down in their dwellings but a few still linger on the surface, watching the crystals and offering friendly waves as they walk by. They wave back and Hunk double checks to be sure everyone who’d been curious to take a peek made it off the Yellow Lion.

Shay gathers the both of them in a bone-crushing hug of that sort that Hunk is more used to giving than receiving.

“Thank you for hosting us,” Allura murmurs.

“Come back anytime.”

“Next time I’ll take you flying,” Hunk says, indicating Yellow with his thumb.

“I’d like that.” Shay lets them go.

They bid her goodbye and head back into Yellow. Hunk settles into the pilot’s chair and Allura rests her elbows on the back of it, watching the dashboard over the top of his helmet.

They don’t talk for awhile but the silence isn’t uneasy. It’s calm, mostly. Both of them are content in the comedown.

“That was one of the most peculiar customs I’ve ever partaken in,” Allura says eventually.

“One of the most? Not the most?”

Allura chuckles. “Firefly fungi is as normal as a stroll at the mall compared to the spirit summoning ritual of the Ungaxor.”

“Yikes.” Hunk makes a face. “Not sure I could handle something like that.”

“You won’t have to.” Allura gives a sigh with a jaded edge. “That planet was in Altea’s solar system. It was one of the first to be destroyed.”

“Oh…”

“Do you feel any better?” she changes the subject.

“Yeah, somewhat.” Hunk shrugs. “I think you’re right. It was good to get out of the castle. It doesn’t change anything but I had a good time.”

“Don’t hide from us anymore,” Allura pleads quietly. “We’re a team. We need to be cohesive and cooperative, and we want to be here for you.”

“I know.” Hunk swallows. “I still might need some space right now, but I’m not going to sting. That’s what buzyegils do, right? They sting?”

“Sting, bite, swarm.” Allura scoffs. “If there’s one thing I don’t miss about Altea, it’s buzyegils. They’re horrible.”

“Okay, I wasn’t that bad,” Hunk protests.

“No, you were worse,” Allura teases.

Hunk leans his head back and reaches up to boop her in nose, drawing a surprised squeal.

“You!” With an impish grin, she boops him right back.

* * *

When they land Shiro is waiting in the hanger, arms folded. He blinks as he watches Hunk and Allura shuffle down Yellow’s ramp, raising a brow.

“No crystal?”

“This crystal.” Hunk holds up the small one he’d picked.

“I don’t think that little sliver could power the castle.” Shiro chuckles.

“I fully intended to acquire a backup,” Allura starts sheepishly. “However, we got caught up in something else. A lovely and surreal Balmeran custom, lengthy though it was.”

“Sounds interesting. What kind of custom?”

“Uh, you know. Alien stuff,” Hunk says, tapping his fingers together. He has a feeling just flat-out saying ‘we did shrooms’ wouldn’t go over well with Shiro.

“It was more than that,” Allura goes on happily. “It was wonderful! We consumed a mind-altering fungus that enabled us to be incredibly intimate with the nature of the Balmera.”

Shiro’s mouth falls open. He shifts his gaze to Hunk, staring hard. “You did shrooms.”

“We did shrooms.” Hunk lowers his head in defeat. “Alien shrooms.”

“Shay didn’t call it that. Why? What’s the matter?”

Shiro sighs heavily, scratching at the back of his head. “As long as you guys are okay, I guess there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Better than okay.” Allura claps him on the shoulder. “In fact, I wish you could’ve joined us. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to update Coran.”

She leaves the hanger and Shiro turns back to Hunk, still uncertain.

“Are you okay? You don’t feel weird or freaked out, or anything?”

“Nah, it wore off awhile ago. It was actually pretty nice,” Hunk admits. “But still, I only did it because it seemed like it was important to Shay. I wasn’t into that kind of stuff on Earth.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Anyway, I’m sorry.” Hunk levels his gaze with Shiro. “About before. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I’m not mad about it. I never was. I just hate when I can’t do anything to help.” Shiro frowns. “What happened to you is my fault to begin with.”

“I don’t even remember it, but I know that’s not true. You can be pretty unfair to yourself, Shiro.”

“I’m in charge, Hunk. I make the decisions. When you get hurt it means I should’ve made better ones.” Shiro lowers his head.

Hunk walks over to him and cages him in a firm bear hug, lifting him off the ground.

Shiro gasps, agape with surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to squeeze the guilt out of you.” Hunk hugs him tighter. “Is it working?”

“Really, this isn’t—“

Hunk hugs him even tighter and gets a grunt in response.

“Okay, okay,” Shiro relents. “It worked.”

Hunk puts him back. “Okay. One apology down, three to go.”

Shiro walks out of the hanger with him, making conversation. He asks about Shay and Hunk asks if he and Allura missed anything important. Shiro briefly overviews some upcoming mission plans. Things feel pretty normal by the time they run into Keith.

“Hey,” Keith greets, sparing Hunk a wary look.

“Where you off to?” Shiro asks.

“Training deck. You wanna come?” Caution threads his tone.

“Sure, I’m up for it,” Shiro says lightly. “Hunk?”

“Actually, there’s a couple things I’ve gotta do. But later, I think I’m gonna make some space crepes. Want me to find you when they’re done?” This is the first part of his second apology. Keith loves the space crepes so much, he almost ate himself sick the last time Hunk made them.

Keith relaxes immediately, nodding. “Sounds great.”

“I’ll let you know.” Hunk offers a smile and Shiro nods to him as they break off in their respective directions.

He stops to change into his casual clothes before he goes looking for Pidge. He tries the lounge first, then their usual workspace, and passes some miscellaneous spots he checks into along the way. He finally finds her in a lesser used corridor, sitting in the middle of a sea of parts.

She’s staring down at her blueprints and Chulatt is poking at the skeletal prototype of a very tiny car. The other mice sit perched on her shoulders.

“Hi,” Hunk says.

Pidge gasps, head jerking up. She was so engrossed she didn’t hear him approach.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Little cars for the mice _is_ genius, you know.”

“Yeah.” Pidge brusquely adjusts her glasses. “You should’ve gotten in on the ground floor when you had the chance.”

Chuchule squeaks something sharp at him and affectionately bumps against Pidge’s cheek.

“You’re both right,” Hunk sighs. “I’m sorry I bit your head off. I want to make it up to you, so I got something I think you’ll like.”

Pidge makes a curious noise and tips her head.

“Catch.” Hunk tosses her the little crystal.

Pidge catches it and turns it over in her hands for inspection. “This is a Balmera crystal?”

“Yup. I’m sure you can use it to power something or other.”

“Duh! Given the size of the one that powers the castle in proportion to the castle, heck yeah it’s gonna power something!” Pidge breaks into a grin. “Bribe accepted. You’re forgiven. I’ll even let you in on my mouse car operation.”

“I want in all right.” Hunk nods hastily. It’s as adorable a project as it is genius. “But I think I should find Lance first. You know where he’s at?”

“Last time I saw him, he was trying to beat my high score in Demonsphere. That’ll probably take forever with his gameplay, I’m sure he’s still there.”

“Okay, thanks.”

* * *

Hunk pokes in just in time to watch the little gravestone pop up on the screen as Lance loses the ground, groaning morosely.

“Bummer,” he mutters.

Lance gasps, quickly turning around. “You’re back."

“Uh-huh.” Hunk sits down, peering closely at his best friend’s face, taut with tension beneath the glow of the screen. “Look, I know I hurt you. I cursed at you and it wasn’t cool, and you’ve been really weird ever since.”

Lance puts down the controller and looks at him plainly. “I’ve seen you blow up at people before, like back at the Garrison when older cadets would pick on the shrimpy kids. Or when we’re freeing a planet and the Galra try to take hostages. I never thought I’d be on the other end of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Hunk apologizes earnestly.

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Lance sounds hopeful.

“I never was mad _at_ you, Lance,” Hunk emphasizes, struck with a pang of guilt. “I was just mad in general and you happened to be there to lash out at. Really man, it was uncool and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Lance murmurs. “About your scars. I guess I was insensitive before. It’s just that I was so glad to have you back, I didn’t care about anything else. We almost lost you and it was terrifying, okay?”

“What?” Hunk’s eyes widen.

Lance sighs heavily. “You were bad off. I’m talking like, I almost had to break out my CPR training kind of bad.”

“Wow, okay. I had no idea.” An uneasy chill runs up Hunk’s back.

“Course not, you don’t remember any of it and none of us really got a chance to say anything.” Lance glances back to the video game screen.

Hunk flinches and finds himself at a loss for words. Lance looks back to him and tentatively crawls into his lap. Hunk melts into the comfortable familiarity, securing one arm loosely around Lance’s waist as he gets comfortable and bracing the other so he can lean back. Lance lets out a sound of contentment as he settles in, head pillowed against Hunk’s shoulder.

“Have fun hanging out with your girlfriend?”

“Again, Shay isn't my girlfriend. But yeah, fun is a good word for it.”

“Okay, the way you said that was weird.” Lance turns around in his lap, brows hiked up in interest. “Did you mess around?”

“No way. Come on,” Hunk scoffs. “I don’t even know if Balmerans do stuff like that in the first place.”

“They have to, right?” Lance muses, contemplative. “They have families.”

“They’re rock people. For all we know, they could just pop out of the Balmera.”

Lance wrinkles his nose. “I don't buy it. I still think they have to do it. How rock are they?”

“Huh. That’s a good question." Hunk leans forward and rubs his chin in though. "They have blood, at least. Shay mentioned that.”

“She was talking about blood and you didn’t barf? Impressive. You really do like her.”

Recalling the context of the conversation, a knot forms in his throat. He hunches and buries his face into the nape of Lance’s neck, feeling Lance stiffen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Hunk mumbles. “I want to go home so bad.”

“Me too, big guy.” Lance sags into him.

“Can we stop talking? Can I just watch you play for awhile so it’ll feel like we’re back at the dorm?” Hunk closes his eyes. “It’s not the same as home, but it’s a lot closer than this.”

“Good idea,” Lance breathes, voice softening. “I always level up faster when you’re helping me strategize anyway.”

Hunk exhales relief against his neck and picks his head up when he hears Lance restart the game.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, long note. 
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> Firstly, I have never actually done shrooms. I did acid just once, which is also a psychedelic, and had a very bad trip. It was horrible and I was legit seeing little gnome people scream at me. I've also done ecstasy and the high itself wasn't bad, but I felt pretty sick afterward and anyway, that's a different kind of high. So I didn't draw much from either experience. 
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> I know pe'a is in common use more often than malofie to refer to the full Samoan male tattoo, but as far as I know, it initially was supposed to refer to a specific piece and I'm nitpicky about linguistics. There is scant content on Hunk's family but I'm pretty sure either his dad or his granddad is dead considering the comic where he names the dragon Hershel after his "pappy." I think pappy is used more for granddads but I've also heard that people call their dads that, so I couldn't say.
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> I think it's safe to assume northern Altea and southern Altea were somewhat different from the (cute as heck) Groggery Day video Rhys Darby and Kimberly Brooks did. 
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> I do think flowers can grow on the Balmera because in that one poster, Allura and Shay have flower crowns. I doubt they were growing the on castle since it's metal. "Shrooms" was my first thought looking at the cool background of the heart of the Balmera, hence inspiration.


End file.
